


Helter Skelter in the Summer Swelter

by Spiraling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beach Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Play, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Sibling Incest, Skinny Dipping, Sunburn, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiraling/pseuds/Spiraling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John decides to give the boys a "proper summer vacation" over the summer between Sam's junior and senior years, letting them camp in the Florida Keys instead of staying in motels. They use their time completely alone in the Florida mangroves, on a campsite right on the beach, to explore the sexual element of their relationship, which had previously only existed behind locked doors and between grimy motel bedsheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helter Skelter in the Summer Swelter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustineDelarge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustineDelarge/gifts).



> Written for a summer-themed wincest writing contest that user JustineDelarge is having on tumblr. Hope you like it hun!

The Winchester brothers didn't have a proper summer vacation until years after Dean was out of school; the summer between Sam's junior and senior years, to be precise. Before then, summer vacation meant little to them. Summer was no different than any other time of the year. They still moved around every couple of weeks, staying a full month in one town if they were lucky. But then, maybe it wasn't so lucky, because the longer they stayed in one place the harder it was for them to say goodbye when John suddenly showed up and gave them little to no time to pack up and get gone. Summer had only ever meant being cooped up in a hotel room all day rather than being cooped up in a classroom all day.

When their father announced that they were _"going to have a real summer vacation this year"_ the boys were skeptical, to say the least. When John went on to explain that he was tracking a coven of vampires making their way through the Florida Keys and he was going to let the boys camp instead of being confined to less than spacious motel rooms, a seventeen year old Sam couldn't stop from rolling his eyes.

"What? Campground rates cheaper than motels down there?" he had asked bitterly, which started a fight that even Dean couldn't break up. Looking back on it now, as Sam and Dean sat together in canvas chairs in their beachfront campsite, neither of them really cared what their father's motivations were. Frankly, it was a fantastic idea.

The only downsides to spending their summer in south Florida were the incredible heat and, even more than the heat, the _humidity_. The air was so dense and damp that sometimes they couldn't tell if the moisture on their bodies was actually sweat or just condensation. The upside was having the ocean less than twenty feet away, cool and wet and waiting. The boys spent their days wandering the vast stretch of beach spread out at the back end of their desolate campsite, swimming or fishing or collecting shells or watching crabs and small fish scurry around in the pools that were left in the rocky parts of the shoreline when the tide went out. They spent their nights sprawled out together on the king-sized air mattress they had picked out - Dean using the excuse of _"It was the only kind they had left. I didn't wanna go to another store."_ when they had returned their dad's credit card and shown him their purchases. Sometimes, when the sky was clear or the heat was too much to bear inside their tent, they would drag the mattress out onto the beach and gaze up at the stars, lulled to sleep by the sounds of waves slapping against the sand and their arms wrapped around each other.

They learned quickly that summer on the beach meant a constant need for sunblock. By their third day at the campground Sam's skin was practically fluorescent pink. He spent the whole day laid up in the shade of the tent, Dean worriedly massaging cooling aloe vera gel onto Sam's back, shoulders, chest, cheeks; basically everywhere the sun had touched him. Sam thanked him profusely and Dean moaned about how irresponsible it was of them to not even consider buying sunblock. Luckily they had the Impala - the first time John had left Baby in Dean's care - and first thing the next day, when Sam's pain had gone down, they rushed to the nearest gas station to stock up on the stuff.

Dean also took the liberty of buying a ten pound bag of ice and a cooler just big enough to hold it all. That night, instead of rubbing Sam down with more aloe Dean rubbed him down with the small blocks of ice, pulling moans from his brother's lips as he licked up the trails of moisture the cubes left behind as they melted against Sam's overheated skin. The icy touch was the best kind of torture; frozen blocks dragging over Sam's nipples and causing them to stand erect, or being left to melt into a pool in his navel that Dean would lick and suck out, or passing from mouth to mouth until they dissolved in the midst of passionate kisses. When Dean finally slipped his chilled hand into Sam's boxers, the only clothing he wore, and wrapped his fingers around the waiting erection, Sam couldn't suppress the gasp that passed his lips, and he bucked and writhed and moaned until he was coming into Dean's hand. And Dean cleaned him up, washed and dried him off as Sam lay there, panting and flinching with the effort it took to breathe so heavily when the pain from his sunburn was starting to creep back, and Dean gently slipped him into a clean pair of boxers, blew out their lantern, and laid himself down on the air mattress, carefully cradling Sam in his arms as they drifted off to sleep.

As fun as that night was, Dean made damn sure the first thing Sam did every morning from then on out was put on sunscreen. The last thing he ever wanted was Sammy to be in pain.

But the boys found other ways to spend their time together that were just as entertaining. One night, when it was far too hot to sleep comfortably, even after they had dragged their air mattress out into the open air, Sam asked Dean if he had ever been skinny-dipping.

"'Course I have," Dean answered with a laugh. "Haven't you?"

"No," Sam replied, leaving out the fact that he'd never had the chance because Dean never let him out of their motel rooms at night, the time you're least likely to get caught. But Dean understood in the way Sam frowned, and he stood from the bed and stripped off his shorts. "What are you doing?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

"Taking you skinny-dipping," Dean answered, taking off in a run toward the beach wearing nothing but a smile. Sam laughed loudly, hurrying to strip his own shorts off and sprint after Dean, splashing into the water shortly after him. Sam dove forward and Dean followed him down beneath the surface, grabbing him around the waist and dragging him back up. They broke the surface already laughing, Dean hooking his other arm underneath Sam's knees and picking him up bridal style, spinning him around above the surface before dropping him back into the water.

"God, you may be skinny but you're getting too big for that," Dean said as their laughter died down, spreading his limbs out and floating on his back on the surface of the water.

"Bet I'll be taller than you by the end of the summer," Sam joked, paddling back over to where Dean floated.

"Yeah right," Dean scoffed. "I'm four years older than you, dude. You'll never be taller than me."

"Frickin' jerk." Sam splashed a wave of water at Dean, causing him to lose his balance and sink down as he instinctively brought his arm up to block the spray aimed at his face. He rolled into the water and came back up upright, spitting out the mouthful of water he'd gotten in Sam's general direction as he rubbed the salt water out of his eyes.

"I may be a jerk, but you're still my bitch," Dean answered. He pulled Sam in close, claiming his lips in a salty kiss. He raked his fingers across Sam's ass, dragging their bodies together as their mouths moved against each other. Sam moaned into the kiss and rutted his hips against Dean's, teenaged body always easily excitable beneath his brother's touch. Dean slid a hand down between Sam's buttocks, sliding two fingers teasingly over his hole.

Sam broke the kiss with a gasp, resting his forehead against Dean's as Dean slowly walked them into shallower water, one finger slipping into Sam with only the ocean water as lubricant. Dean prepped him slow to accommodate for the lack of lube, making sure his Sammy was completely ready before laying him down at the shoreline, waves still lapping at their lower bodies. He squeezed his cock from base to tip, milking precome from his slit and wiping it over Sam's hole for a little more slide before pushing in and fucking him slow, deep, and gentle, right there on the shore. By the time they were spent and had managed to get themselves back up to their campsite and drag the air mattress back into the tent so they didn't have to worry about redressing before falling asleep, they were both far too tired to care about the heat.

On the fourth of July, Dean left Sam alone at the campground - on the basis that he stayed in the tent the whole time, loaded shotgun in hand - and came back about an hour later with a case of beer and all the makings of s'mores, apologizing that he hadn't been able to get any fireworks because all the stores he found were already sold out. But Sam didn't mind, and it turned out they didn't need their own anyway. Although the pier was miles away they could see the firework display going on there clearly, and when they dragged their canvas chairs down to the beach they were glad to see it was deserted as far down as they were. They made a bonfire and cooked their marshmallows as they watched the display, Dean letting Sam drink with him for the first time. They ate their s'mores and drank their beers and cheered at the fiery finale in the sky. Sam, being a bit of a lightweight considering it was his first time drinking, was giggling and practically falling out of his chair by the time he reached the bottom of his second bottle.

"I think you oughta take it easy, Sammy," Dean warned, eying how close their chairs were to the bonfire. He was caught by surprise when Sam grabbed the arm of his chair for support, pulling himself up and dropping back onto his knees between Dean's legs.

"I'm too old for you t'be callin' me Sammy still," Sam slurred. Dean's breath caught in his throat as Sam pulled at the zipper of his jeans. "I'll showya." He pulled Dean's quickly hardening cock from his boxers and Dean had to bite back a moan. Of course, as a young man, one of the first things Dean had done when he and Sam had taken their relationship to a sexual level was ask for a blow job. But Sam had said no - said it sounded gross, to be specific - and Dean would never try to push him into something he was uncomfortable with, not even after Dean had performed the act on Sam multiple times. So, to have Sam's lips, even though they were chapped from all the sun they'd seen over the past few weeks, wrapping around the head of his dick of Sam's own free will, was incredible.

"Nevermind, Sammy, I like you drunk," Dean commented in a moan. Sam's intoxication coupled with his inexperience in being on the giving end of oral sex made for an awkward start, but Dean ran his fingers through Sam's shaggy hair lovingly, guiding his head and giving him mumbled tips. As usual, Sam learned quickly, and it wasn't long before Dean was digging his heels into the sand and panting out breaths and gripping at Sam's shoulders, trying to push him away as he warned, "Sa, Sammy, I'm gon.. Gonna come," but Sam shook his head at Dean's attempts to push him back, moaning around Dean's cock and swallowing down as much of his brother's length as he could. Dean cursed loudly, one of his hands fisting in Sam's hair at the base of his neck as he came. To Dean's amazement, Sam was able to swallow most of it, only the smallest bit leaking out of the corner of his mouth as he pulled back and let Dean's softening cock slip from his lips.

"See?" Sam asked, and Dean's orgasm and alcohol-addled brain wasn't quite sure what he meant until he continued, "Little Sammy would never do that."

"Well shit, I'll call you Sammy for the rest of your life if you do that every time," Dean rasped with a laugh. Sam bit back a smile but wound up laughing as well, then wiped the dirtied corner of his mouth on the back of his wrist, an action that at once seemed the naughtiest and most adorable gesture Dean had ever seen, and he couldn't stop himself from pulling Sam up to crush their lips together.

So, when John showed up at their campsite and handed them the brochure for the next campground they'd be staying at, and asked them how they'd enjoyed their weeks on this Key, Sam and Dean could only smile at each other and laugh at their father's comments about how he never expected them to enjoy camping so much.


End file.
